


our coloured days

by SilveryxDark



Category: Alice Nine
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilveryxDark/pseuds/SilveryxDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of new beginnings and a developing love, told through colours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	our coloured days

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite different from my usual stuff! It's written in a second person point of view, and it's rather more serious. I wouldn't exactly say it's dramatic, though. As a narrative it's more of a string of moments, and snippets showing this relationship. 
> 
> There are mentions of sex at the beginning, in slight detail. I hope the rating's ok. www
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this!

**red**  
  
It's the first time you ever meet. You act cocky with him, flirting with him, egging him on with not-quite-insults and pointed looks. He takes the bait, unsurprisingly, and you saunter out, meeting him. His kiss is searingly hot on your lips, and hotter still, as he moves on to your neck and chest.  
  
Your lips are left swollen, your cheeks flushed dark. You can hear the blood pounding in your veins. You offer yourself up to him, all too willingly, and he takes you. He’s surprisingly kind afterwards, his kisses soft and sweet on the corner of your mouth as he calms you down.  
  
The bite marks on your skin sting and you walk funny for a few days. Not that you mind at all - they’re a thrilling, secret reminder of your night together, even if you never see him again.  
  
 **orange**  
  
It's a spark - in his gaze, in the end of his cigarette. He’s surprised at first, gorgeous mouth dropping open, and then he smirks just a little at you. He even offers you a puff of his cigarette, and you don’t know what the _fuck_ you’re doing when you accept.  
  
Only that you have a powerful desire for more of this, whatever this is. This heady sense of danger and freedom and wildness when you are once more with him, consequences be damned.  
  
A smile touches your lips when he decides on his stage name. It's fitting. A wild beast, unfettered, ferocious. His exterior is rough, his features all edges with little softness. You think of deadly claws and sharp teeth and sunset eyes, of him.  
  
 **yellow**  
  
It's his damnably beautiful smile. He looks closed off and tough, but you know his true kindness underneath. His smiles have also been less invitations to fuck than simple, genuine, expressions of joy.  
  
They are as the sun on one of those days on the threshold between spring and summer. Not a weak, white thing, nor a harsh, blinding light. His smiles are ever so gentle - and they are directed at you.  
  
It's not like doesn't smile at the others, but they talk, much more than either of you are typically inclined to. You are strangely comfortable with him, and weak to that laugh, that grin. Is it any wonder you think you have fallen in love with him?  
  
 **green**  
  
It’s the gleam in his eyes, jealous and possessive. Your status is - odd. Somewhere in that threshold between friends, and lovers. Friends with benefits, perhaps, but more than that. You don’t quite know where you stand at that point.  
  
Not till you are prancing around on stage, practically making out with another, and flaunting your body. You look at him, and you see the unbridled jealousy, and desire. You find yourself thrilled, even happy, at that. Then, after the performance, he takes you in his arms and whispers, rough and needy, “Mine.”  
  
"Yes," you agree, you belong only to him, and that cements it. (And if later, he tries to do the same, lips too close to another's for your liking even if it's only on stage, you know it's only a little game you both like to play.)  
  
 **blue**  
  
It's your tears, and his. You fight, like all couples do. There is always that horrible fear that this is it, that this is where it ends, where you lose the love of your life because you're both so silly and stubborn -  
  
Then he comes to you, apologising. You do the same. You talk it out, hands clasped together. His thumb rubs gentle, calming circles into the back of your hand, always reassuring. You find yourself reaching out to brush away a stray lock of hair that falls across his eyes. Little things.  
  
The fights grow less petty, less frequent. You resolve little issues easily. They don’t blow up. You love him, and you are certain of his love for you. You think about how you can build your life together, calm and stable.  
  
 **purple**  
  
It's how you feel, with him, around him, about him. For one, he has a penchant for pampering you. Not that that’s all to it, but he likes treating you like royalty, he says. You joke that royalty probably don’t eat half as much pizza as you do. He quips that you can be the king of pizza, and you blush and laugh and kiss him silly.  
  
You luxuriate in your sheets, your moments together in bed no longer carrying that desperation of youth. You can take your time, laughing in bed with each other, feeling like you are the most blessed person in this whole damn universe, so lucky to have him. He never fails to make you feel the most wanted, the most needed, the most loved.  
  
If ever there were soulmates, you think he is yours. He complements all of you, the two of you fitting together, smoothing out jagged lines, making each other better. You don’t even need to talk too much. Merely being together is as easy as breathing. So you breathe.  
  
 **pink**  
  
It's the rose petals scattered all around the floor, their fragrance wafting through the air. He smiles at you, soft and kind, box in hand. It is as though time itself has been suspended. Your cheeks are warm and your eyes are wet.  
  
He looks at you, like there is nothing, no one, more precious. There is no one more important than him. You will remember and treasure this moment, forever.  
  
Of course, there has only ever been one possible answer.  
  
 **black/white**  
  
It's the colour of your suits, tailored to fit perfectly.  
  
 **gold**  
  
It's his smile, the pure joy on his face, the look mirrored on yours. It's the glorious sunshine filtering through the windows, bathing you both in light.  
  
It's the ring he slips onto your finger, and the one you slip on his.  
  
It's the way he presses a kiss to your lips, lingering, sweet, the beginning of the next stage of your lives together. The way he presses his forehead against your own, with both your eyes closed, fingers clasped tightly together, saying, "I do."  
  
"I love you."

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to add that I know indigo and not pink should be in the rainbow, but looking up colour symbolism, indigo had meanings of devotion and spirituality which I feel I touched upon somewhat in purple, and devotion especially throughout. So I thought to add pink in o/
> 
> If you enjoyed reading this, I would be very happy to receive kudos and/or comments. Hit me up at [ruitomo](http://ruitomo.tumblr.com) at tumblr if you wish! I'd love to chat!


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